


thrilled by the still of your hand

by thelittlebirdthattoldyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Arm Wrestling, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Rated T for language, accidental confessions, they're in college because i needed an excuse to put them all in the same place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlebirdthattoldyou/pseuds/thelittlebirdthattoldyou
Summary: “Iwa-chan should really be thanking me. After all, he got those muscles from throwing things at me all the time.”“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, “I swear to god, after this is over, I’m kicking your ass.”I hope that’s not the only thing you do to my ass,Oikawa thinks. Then he makes a face at himself. Because seriously? He may be a little in love with his best friend, but surely even he isn’t far gone enough to be having such embarrassing thoughts.In which Iwaizumi and Bokuto arm wrestle, and Oikawa gets a little thirsty.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, implied Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou - Relationship
Comments: 52
Kudos: 793





	thrilled by the still of your hand

In Oikawa’s humble opinion, there's nothing better than watching Iwaizumi crush his challengers at arm wrestling. For one, it means he has the perfect excuse to stare longingly at Iwaizumi’s biceps, and no one can call him out for it. He likes to watch the flex of the taut muscles, evidence of years of weight training and volleyball practice. And he likes to watch Iwaizumi's face; he always arm wrestles with a specific look of concentration, eyebrows drawn together in an intense-yet-endearing frown. Sometimes Oikawa wonders how it would feel to have that sort of intensity directed at him. He tries to banish those thoughts to the back of his mind as they arise, to be examined later when he’s alone in his room.

On top of that, everyone around him gets to witness how strong and manly his Iwa-chan is, and that's always a bonus.

Never mind that Iwaizumi technically isn’t his. Oikawa told himself that he would confess before they graduated high school, really, he would, but then they were going to the same university, and Iwaizumi asked him to live together, and - well. It was either confess and ruin his first and most important friendship or keep quiet, contenting himself with the knowledge that he could keep Iwaizumi by his side for at least four more years. And when it came to things that really mattered, Oikawa was always something of a coward.

Iwaizumi grunts, bringing Oikawa’s attention back to their university dining hall. The current match has been going on for much longer than expected, and some of their classmates have abandoned their food in favor of gathering around to watch. Oikawa himself hasn’t even had the chance to buy anything yet. Iwaizumi and his opponent - Bokuto Koutarou, who Oikawa is acquainted with as the ace of their college team - are locked in the same position they’ve been in for the past few minutes, muscles straining, teeth gritted, neither one gaining or losing ground. And sure, Bokuto’s physique is impressive, but Iwaizumi was the undefeated arm wrestling champion of Aoba Johsai for three years straight. Oikawa doesn’t doubt for a second that he’s going to win.

Just then, Oikawa hears a low whistle from behind him and cranes his head to look. He grins upon spotting a familiar bedhead. “Tettsun!” he chirps. “Bet you two thousand yen that Iwa-chan wins!”

Kuroo shrugs easily, lips twitching into a lazy grin. “I’ll take you up on that,” he says. “I’ve gotta support my bro, after all.”

Bokuto glances up briefly to flash Kuroo a smile and a thumbs up with his free hand. The soft-spoken man next to him - Oikawa recognizes him as the Akaashi from Bokuto’s numerous energetic ramblings in the changing room after practice - nods in Kuroo’s direction as well. Kuroo waves back, and Oikawa crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Your loss. There’s no way my Iwa-chan could ever lose.”

Iwaizumi snorts. Without breaking the intense staring contest he’s got going on with Bokuto, he says, “Your Iwa-chan needs you to shut up, Shittykawa. You’re distracting.”

“Mean!” Oikawa pouts, trying his best to tamp down the fluttering in his chest. It’s a losing battle. Because Iwaizumi hadn’t denied being his, and that does things to Oikawa’s insides that he’d rather not dwell on. Instead, his eyes fixate on a bead of sweat dripping down Iwaizumi’s temple. It trails down the side of Iwaizumi’s face, down his neck, to pool near his collarbone, and Oikawa lets out a happy sigh. Kuroo, having managed to snag a seat on his other side, shoots him a knowing look, crooked smirk still in place. Oikawa scowls. No way is he losing any money to that smug bastard.

“I believe in you, Iwa-chan!” he says. “Iwa-chan doesn’t have much of a brain, so he always has to rely on brute force. Look at those beefy arms.” He pokes Iwaizumi’s bicep with one finger and earns himself a quick glare from the brute in question. In the crowd, a girl giggles - Oikawa catches her eye, shoots his trademark wink in her direction. She blushes and covers her face with her hands, and Oikawa turns back to the matter at hand.

“If I weren’t busy right now, I’d hit you,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he stops before the words come out. Is Iwaizumi - dependable, stoic, dense Iwaizumi - blushing? His face certainly seems redder than it was just a few seconds ago. Is it because of him? Or is it just the exertion of the prolonged arm wrestle? Oikawa curses internally, desperately wishing that he’d been paying attention to Iwaizumi the whole time instead of looking away to flirt with some girl he wasn’t even interested in.

He feels a sharp jab in his side and turns to find a grinning Kuroo. “Cat got your tongue?” he asks, looking all too pleased with himself for the quip. “Are you so busy ogling him that you can’t even talk anymore?”

Oikawa smacks Kuroo on the shoulder, more lightly than he probably deserves, and glances around them to make sure that no one overheard. They’re all focused on the match. No one seems to be looking at him weirdly. So Oikawa, being the gracious person he is, decides that maybe Kuroo doesn’t have to die today after all. But this does make the two thousand yen Oikawa is about to earn all the sweeter. “Shut up,” he hisses. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louder, to Iwaizumi and the crowd, he says, “Iwa-chan should really be thanking me. After all, he got those muscles from throwing things at me all the time.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, “I swear to god, after this is over, I’m kicking your ass.”

_I hope that’s not the only thing you do to my ass,_ Oikawa thinks. Then he makes a face at himself. Because seriously? He may be a little in love with his best friend, but surely even he isn’t far gone enough to be having such embarrassing thoughts.

He laughs, though, and holds up his hands in mock surrender, hoping to appease Iwaizumi and stave off any punishment he might receive later. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, and then it happens: Oikawa sees Iwaizumi’s grip slacken. Just a little. Just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough of an opening that Bokuto presses forward, smile widening as he exploits Iwaizumi’s moment of weakness. And Oikawa can’t sit idly and do nothing, not when two thousand yen and his pride - well, Iwaizumi’s pride - are on the line.

“Iwa-chan!” he says with growing urgency. “I really do believe in you, so just win this for me, okay?”

Something passes over his face too fast for Oikawa to read, and then he’s leaning forward, pushing back against Bokuto’s relentless attack. Bokuto, meanwhile, turns to the man beside him. “Akaashi,” he says, hopeful smile and puppy-dog eyes and everything, “say nice things about me, too!”

“No thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, monotone. Bokuto pouts, and their audience titters.

“Don’t look so down, Bo,” Kuroo says. “Akaashi just isn’t as embarrassing as Oikawa, that’s all.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi adds, strain evident in his voice. “You’re way too shameless.”

And Oikawa can’t even pretend to be offended, because there’s a fond smile pulling at the corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth, and Oikawa’s face heats up. He’s sure he’s blushing hard, can feel the flush on his cheeks and the back of his neck, and he sends a short prayer to whatever gods may exist that Iwaizumi is too focused on arm wrestling to notice.

He tears his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s face, sure that he’ll overheat if he keeps looking, and stares at Iwaizumi’s and Bokuto’s interlocked hands instead. Bokuto still has the advantage, but Iwaizumi, in an admirable show of strength, is forcing him to give ground inch by inch. The spectators watch, rapt, as he pushes them back into vertical position through sheer power. Even Kuroo tenses. Then Iwaizumi is the one on the offense, panic starting to show on Bokuto’s expression. Finally, _finally,_ Oikawa thinks - and Akaashi chooses that moment to open his mouth.

“You can do it, Bokuto-san,” he says, voice as placid as ever, but apparently that’s all it takes because Bokuto lights up. He beams, happiness radiating from his every pore, and shoves back against Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi grunts, once again stopped in his tracks. Bokuto, still high on whatever drug Akaashi somehow injected into him with words alone, begins to push his arm down centimeter by centimeter. Iwaizumi’s teeth grind together; his breath is coming harder now. And Oikawa?

Oikawa panics.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa all but screeches. In his peripheral vision, he registers multiple audience members wincing at his shrill tone. But sue him, he’s desperate. “Iwa-chan, come on, _I’ll kiss you if you win!_ ”

Oikawa’s pretty sure he sees several jaws fall open in shock. Bokuto’s eyes are even wider than normal, darting between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and even Akaashi looks briefly startled.

Iwaizumi, though, is a sight to behold. He grunts and, with one clean jerk, slams Bokuto’s arm down on the table. The knock of his knuckles against the table echoes through the dining hall.

Then, silence. No one is talking, but Oikawa can’t hear anything anyway. The blood rushing in his ears blocks out every other sound. He’s pretty sure he registers the ragged in and out of Iwaizumi’s breathing. And that might be Kuroo’s hyena laugh next to him. But he can't quite tell, his thoughts are too loud -

He stands in one abrupt motion. Almost as if he’s dreaming, he pushes through the the crowd around them. They part for him easily, just as confused and surprised as he is, although probably not as mortified. As soon as he gets through the crush of bodies, he breaks into a brisk walk, then a run. He sprints out of the dining hall and into the courtyard. The first thing he sees is a fountain, so he makes his way over and sits on the edge, cupping cold water in his hands and splashing his face with it.

The cold helps to shock his system into restarting. Oikawa groans as higher brain function comes back to him. He buries his face in his hands. That’s it. He can’t show his face at the dining hall ever again, can’t go to volleyball practice, definitely can’t go back to his and Iwaizumi’s shared apartment to face the abject humiliation that awaits him. Are they still accepting study abroad requests so late into the semester? He’s heard nice things about Europe this time of year.

Oikawa is so caught up in his plan to charm the administrators into letting him transfer to another school that he doesn’t notice the heavy footsteps behind him until it’s too late. A shadow falls over him, and he stiffens.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says.

“Ah! I - Iwa-chan. Funny meeting you here.”

Iwaizumi places a hand on upper arm and yanks him to his feet. Oikawa sighs and turns to face his best friend. This had to happen sooner or later, although Oikawa was hoping for a few more years.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says again, more firmly this time. “Did you mean it?”

He almost rolls his eyes at that, because really, how dense can one person be? But he’s too distracted by his impending rejection and the subsequent termination of their friendship to think about teasing Iwaizumi. So he just nods. “Sorry, Iwa-chan, I meant it.” He tries for his usual cheery tone, but it comes out breathless, verging on hysterical. His gaze is fixed on the ground. “I’ve liked - I’ve loved you for a long time, I’m sorry, and I don’t think I know how to stop. B - but! I’ve hidden it well all this time, right, Iwa-chan? I mean, I’ve been in love with you for years and you never noticed, so - so we can just pretend nothing happened, right? We can still be friends, and soon I’ll get over it -” His voice breaks on the last sentence, like even the words themselves know that they’re lies.

“Oikawa, wait -”

Oikawa shakes his head. “No, Iwa-chan, really, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. We can still live together, I’ll give you space if you need time to think things over. Just please don’t leave me, I don’t know what I would do -”

“Tooru!” The use of his first name snaps him out of it. He clamps his mouth shut and risks a peek at Iwaizumi.

His brows are furrowed in concern, his lips pressed together. Relief flickers in his eyes when he finally sees Oikawa looking back at him. He reaches up and curls one hand under Oikawa’s jaw, tilting his head up further, and Oikawa’s breath catches in his throat. “Tooru,” he says. “You always talk so goddamn much.”

Oikawa opens his mouth to object, because Iwaizumi shouldn’t be allowed to bully him when he’s all laid bare like this, but he doesn’t get the chance. Soft lips press against his, and Oikawa freezes, and they’re gone before he can so much as inhale. Iwaizumi steps back, eyebrows raised expectantly.

And Oikawa’s heart kicks into overtime because, holy shit, Iwaizumi kissed him. They kissed. He steps forward, helpless to do anything but follow after Iwaizumi’s body, and rests his hands on Iwaizumi’s broad shoulders. “Iwa-chan,” he breathes. “Really? You too?”

Iwaizumi scoffs, but there’s the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Idiot. I won an arm wrestling contest against _Bokuto_ because you promised me a kiss - the guy’s built like a brick wall. Of course I feel the same.”

Oikawa exhales, shaky. He licks his lips. “Um, then can I - will you kiss me again?”

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi repeats, but his voice is so, so fond. “Like you even have to ask.”

Then he’s leaning in again, and this time Oikawa meets him halfway. Their mouths move against each other, and Iwaizumi’s hand is still cupping Oikawa’s face, and Oikawa’s arms wrap around Iwaizumi’s neck and pull him in deeper. Iwaizumi catches Oikawa’s bottom lip in between his teeth and tugs, deepens the kiss when Oikawa gasps.

They make out like that for what could be minutes or days, and Oikawa would be quite content to stay in Iwaizumi’s arms forever. He’s not sure which of them breaks away first, but then they’re left staring at each other, eyes dark and lips red.

Iwaizumi’s hands trail down Oikawa’s shoulders, his sides, and finally settle on his waist. Oikawa shivers. “Hajime,” he whispers, just because he can, and the affectionate smile he gets in response ramps his heartbeat up a notch. “This means we’re dating now, right? Like boyfriends?”

“Yes, Tooru.” Iwaizumi says. He's trying and failing to hide his smile. “Like boyfriends. I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow?”

Oikawa huffs, burying his head in Iwaizumi’s shoulder to hide his wide smile. “Still so mean, Iwa-chan,” he says. “Making me wait.”

Iwaizumi’s laugh rumbles in his ear. “Fine, Shittykawa, have it your way. Let’s just go home now, okay? We can watch one of your godawful alien movies and have dinner, since we didn't get to eat back there. I’ll cook.”

“Hm.” A thought occurs to him, and his grin turns mischievous. “Okay! But only if Iwa-chan carries me the whole way!” He jumps without warning, taking advantage of Iwaizumi’s surprise to wrap his long legs around his boyfriend - _his boyfriend’s_ waist.

“What in the - oi, asshole! Get off!” Iwaizumi splutters as Oikawa clings on for dear life. “My arms are tired!”

But despite his complaints, he carries Oikawa for as long as he can before his arms give out. And then he lets Oikawa climb onto his back, grumbling the entire time, and carries him that way the rest of the walk home.

* * *

“So,” Kuroo muses to no one in particular, the crowd having dispersed, watching as Akaashi attempts to console a dejected Bokuto, “does this mean I get to keep the money?”

**Author's Note:**

> my first fic in this fandom, and naturally it happens to be something incredibly self-indulgent that no one asked for, but i hope you enjoyed anyway.
> 
> title is from "no plan" by hozier.


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